2. Carmelita ‘Lita’ Cardova

Music started to play in my ears as my feet hit the ground. But no matter what song I changed it to, it didn't change the fact I felt like an idiot.

I waved.

Like a nerd.

Again.

If that wasn't bad enough, I blushed! God! I was the worst around men. No, that wasn't true. I was the worst around him. Ford.

Ford and his gorgeous sun-kissed skin and eyes that were covered up about eighty percent of the time with sunglasses, but when he wasn't wearing them, were the most beautiful shade of hazel I had ever seen. Not quite green or brown or amber either. They drew me in. I wanted to look at them forever and never figure out their exact shade. Ford with his long hair up in a man bun that made my fingers itch to run through it or wash it or tug on it while riding him like a cowgirl gone wild .

?Que es eso, ni?a! I chastised myself. What was I thinking? I wasn't some kind of sex-crazed woman. But that had been before Ford. Ford inspired a lot of dirty, filthy thoughts, but I couldn't go there. I had to keep my thoughts and hands and silly schoolgirl crush waves to myself.

First off, he was my neighbor. Like my best friend, Jenna, liked to say, you don't shit where you eat. Second, he was older than me. By at least ten years, minimum. There was no way a man like him would even think about me like that. Not when he seemed to be so put together. He had moved into the rental across the street about two months ago and kept to himself for the most part.

We had spoken a handful of times, but for all I knew, he was in town for a job. Maybe he is around temporarily? It wasn't like that house hadn't been rented out to different people every three to six months. Third and most important, I was a total clutzy nerd in front of the man! Every time I was around him, all I could do was babble and smile up at him adoringly.

He inspired so many dirty thoughts in my head I was pretty sure there was something wrong with me. He was older and put together; I could imagine him bossing me around, telling me what to do. Praising his good girl when she did something right and punishing her with sinful delight when she was bad. Sinful delight? ?Estas loca, Lita! I giggled at my crazy thoughts as I picked up my speed.

I needed to take a break from the smutty books I indulged in. It was messing with my head. All the smutty stories I'd read had turned the nice, older guy next door into a potential real-life book boyfriend, or book daddy, in my head. I licked my lips and wondered if he would be into dirty talk. I mean, what man wasn't?

No, Ford wouldn't be into it . He would be able to teach a master class on it. I should just take a picture of him while he mowed his lawn shirtless, send it to one of my favorite authors, and beg her to use him as inspiration to write him up for me.

But I wouldn't.

Because the thought of sending any other woman Ford's picture kinda made something in my stomach turn. I didn't like it.

I didn't want anyone seeing my daddy. I meant my Ford. I meant my neighbor.

He's not yours ! I reminded myself. My heart didn't like that. I wanted him. Badly.

I had never had a crush on anyone the way I had a crush on my sexy neighbor with a kind smile. He just seemed so nice. Sweet and generous. Protective. He had mowed my lawn without me asking about two weeks ago. I'd been able to ramble over my pounding heart and asked if he wanted something to drink, and when he agreed, I hurried out with lemonade and cookies.

We sat on my front patio until long after the sun set. It was nice. More than nice, liar, a voice in my head perked up. If I was honest, it was the best date I'd ever been on. And it hadn't been a real one .

How sad was that? Guys my age just wanted to have something pretty on their arm and to fuck without strings. They were all so immature and irresponsible. And it wasn't like I was the pretty somethings they wanted on their arms. I wasn't tall and skinny with a willowy body and endless legs. I was pretty much the opposite of that. Short with curves. Curves I was happy with because I liked my ass and boobs, but that also meant I had a belly that no matter what I tried or ate wouldn't flatten. But it never bothered me. I was comfortable in my skin.

I turned back to my street and sighed when I realized my three-mile walk was almost over. Luck was on my side, though. He was still out there. He looked like he had just finished and was emptying the mower bag into his compost bin. God, there was something so sexy about the way he moved, with a quiet confidence he didn't seem to need to show off.

Would he be that way behind closed doors?

Would he be a daddy in charge.

Daddy? My face felt hot, and it had nothing to do with the walk I'd been on. Why couldn't I think about calling Ford anything else but daddy? I wanted to be his good girl and do anything he wanted me to do.

Anything to make him proud of me.

I needed to stop!

I wasn't Ford's type. There was no way. Eres riducla! You're being ridiculous. There was no way a man like Ford would be interested in me. Not when he could more than likely handpick his women. But if he ever was, even if it was just for a night, I'd let him into my bed and do everything and anything he asked of me.

I'd be a good girl, even when I was being bad.